A Compromising Affair (The Harringtons)

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A Compromising Affair (The Harringtons) Page 10

by Gwynne Forster


  “Yes, sir. It’s my duty to keep you happy, and I believe in doing my job well. Madam, would you care for some spiced crab claws?”

  “Yes,” Denise said. “I love them.”

  He watched her chew slowly and deliberately as she closed her eyes and savored the flavor of the morsel in her mouth. Sensuous and sexy from her head to her feet, he thought. He couldn’t wait to see her in something more revealing. Straighten out your head, man, and think about your new assignment, anything except what you want to do to this woman.

  “I meant to tell you that I’m starting a new assignment. So I don’t expect to spend a lot of time abroad, at least for the next eighteen months.”

  “I hope you’re glad, because I am. Do you know what you’ll be doing?”

  “It isn’t final, so I’ll wait until it’s been finalized before I tell you. I do know that my office will be in the State Department, and that’s what I’ve wanted.”

  She stopped eating and turned toward him. “I’m glad for you. My mom is very impressed with you.”

  “Your mom? How would she know?”

  “She’s a member of the House Committee on Foreign Relations.”

  “She’s… Wait a second. Katherine Miller is your mother?”

  “As far as I know. She praised your work in Lithuania. I mentioned your name when we talked earlier this week, and she said she knew you. I wasn’t surprised to hear her say nice things about you. I would have been shocked if she’d said anything to the contrary.”

  “Be careful, Denise. When a man cares for a woman, he needs to know that she respects him and appreciates who he is. Keep it up, and I may find myself trying to fly back to D.C. using my own wings.”

  She poked him in the side with her finger. “Really? With me on your back? I trust you, love. But that’s asking a bit much of me. Don’t you think?”

  “It is not wise to be a smart-ass with your man,” he said as he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Wait a minute there. You called me ‘love’ and you called me that just before you hung up on me earlier today.”

  “I didn’t hang up on you.”

  “Did so.”

  “Did not. I just put the receiver back into its cradle.”

  “Quit splitting hairs.”

  “Are we arguing?”

  “Definitely not,” he said. “We’re doing what psychologists call sublimation. We can’t do what we’d really like to do, so we’re making idle small talk.”

  They finished their meal, and he removed the armrest between their seats. “Come closer, sweetheart,” he said. And when she did, he covered her with a blanket, put his arms around her and closed his eyes. If he was lucky, this weekend would be the start to the rest of his life. Still, there was so much that he didn’t know about her. Why was her mother in Congress in Washington, and her father in Waverly, Texas, running his ranch? Did she want children, and where was marriage in her list of priorities? She wanted him, but for how long? As a lawyer, he was trained to get the answers that he needed by observing people. But he knew it wouldn’t work with Denise because he was in love with her.

  The steward announced that the plane was preparing to land at its final destination. He awakened Denise with a kiss. “We’re here,” he said, surprised at the sound of his voice. He took their small carry-on bags and walked with her into the terminal.

  “Welcome to Bermuda, sweetheart.”

  “This is wonderful.” A look of consternation settled on her face, and she grabbed his forearm. “But I didn’t bring my passport. I took it out, but I forgot to put it in my handbag when I changed pocketbooks.”

  “You only need a driver’s license.”

  “Oh, I’m going to love this. I heard that it has mostly pink houses and even pink sand on some beaches.”

  “We’ll be right on the ocean, and you can swim as much as you like.”

  She stopped walking. “Is that all I’m supposed to look forward to?”

  He gave her a withering look. Surely, she didn’t expect an answer. They retrieved their bags, went through customs and headed for the exit. “Here’s our driver,” he said when he saw a man holding a sign with his name.

  “When did you plan this? I’m impressed. Evidently, you don’t leave anything to chance.”

  “I try not to, but I took a chance this time. I had to because I knew you’d be more excited about our weekend if it had an air of mystery. You don’t know how pleased I am.”

  “I love surprises. Like on the plane when you tucked me in that blanket and wrapped your arms around me. Every time you do something like that, a little more of you seeps into me and sticks. Scott, please don’t lead me on. I couldn’t bear it.”

  As soon as they settled into the limousine, he turned to her, grabbed both of her hands and stared into her eyes. “Don’t do this, Denise. Think of the woman that you are and don’t allow yourself any negative thoughts. I know there’s probably a good reason, and I hope that while we’re here you’ll at least begin to feel that you can trust me. When you do that, everything else will come together. Believe me, nothing will come between us then.”

  She didn’t respond to that. Indeed, she didn’t seem perturbed by it, either. In the hotel lobby, she leaned against the reception desk while he checked them into the swank Hotel Fairmont Southampton on South Shore Road in Hamilton. He knew that the indifference of her body language was meant to let him know that she was okay with whatever accommodations he’d decided on.

  He held her hand as they took the elevator to the third floor. At her room door, he opened it with the key card and handed it and a second, metal key to her.

  “I’m next door.”

  “What’s this?” she asked him, looking down at the metal key in her hand.

  He let a grin crawl over his face. “That’s in case you miss me and want to pay me a visit. Unfortunately, I’m not entitled to one of those.”

  She threw the key up and caught it. “You poor baby. Boy, am I going to have fun with this!”

  “What?” She went into her room, closed the door and left him gaping in her wake.

  Denise surveyed her surroundings. Standing in the middle of the beautifully furnished living room, she saw in one direction a balcony with a table, chairs and plants. There was a large bathroom with a Jacuzzi on the left and next to it a full kitchen. She walked past the bathroom, saw a short hallway, turned and stopped. Fantastic! A king-size bed, chaise longue, chests of drawers and what appeared to be a fifty-inch flat-screen TV. Beside the big window was another balcony. She opened the door, walked out and looked out at the Atlantic Ocean and the pink sand beaches along the shoreline. Feeling light-headed, she made her way back into the bedroom. She picked up the telephone beside the bed.

  “Operator, would you please ring Ambassador Galloway. Thank you.”

  “Hello. Scott speaking.”

  “Scott, this place is palatial. It’s—it’s… Look. I’ve never been so moved by a view in my entire life. Come over here and look at this place. It must be the royal suite. It’s… I know you want me to enjoy myself and to be happy here with you and I really appreciate that. But honey, this suite must cost a mint. Maybe we should share. It’s big enough for two.”

  “Denise, sweetheart, my suite is exactly like yours, except for the color scheme. I won’t go broke over this. But I want you to know that I appreciate your being so thoughtful and considerate. Your feelings about this tell me a lot about you and that makes me happy. Now! If you want company, you have the key.”

  “I wasn’t joking, Scott. As long as you didn’t go overboard, I feel better. I’ll just relax. It’s almost cocktail time. What time do you want to meet?”

  “How about in an hour? Is that okay with you?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll be in a short silk dress.” She unpacked, showered, tamed her hair until it curled around her shoulders and went out on the balcony. He stood on the adjoining one, leaning with his back against the building, braced against the wall with his hands in his trou
ser pockets as he gazed at the ocean’s frolicking waves. It was exactly how he’d been standing when she saw him at Judson and Heather’s barbecue that day. He seemed so relaxed, without a care. She ducked inside before he saw her and put on the short red dress with the low neckline with a slit halfway up the right thigh.

  “Why don’t these designers just throw up their hands, say they don’t have any more style ideas and tell us to go naked?” she said aloud, gritting her teeth. She had no idea what Scott’s reaction would be to how much skin was exposed in the dress. She slipped on a pair of red patent-leather sandals that were the same color as her dress and toenails. She looked in the mirror and decided against lipstick. What you see is what you get, she said to herself, picked up the phone and dialed his room.

  “Hello.” She loved his deep, sonorous voice. It was as smooth as velvet, like the man himself.

  “Hi, hon. I’m ready when you are.”

  “Be there in three minutes.”

  She remembered to dab some perfume in strategic places and was at the door seconds after he knocked. She opened the door, looked at him and gaped. Scott Galloway was one good-looking man. She was so awe-struck that she failed to notice his reaction to her.

  “Want to come in?” she asked him.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Uh…thanks, but I don’t—”

  “But don’t you want to see my suite? It’s exquisite.”

  “Maybe another time. I’d rather not finish the day right now. Look, sweetheart, don’t you have a scarf or something?”

  She reached up and caressed his cheek. “I won’t be cold. You look…so nice.”

  She’d almost told him what she really thought of his looks and what that outfit did to an already perfect man. But her father had always said, “Make a guy feel good, but don’t give him the advantage.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about the temperature in the hotel,” he said dryly. “Let’s go.” At the elevator, he punched the button. As they waited, he gazed down at her. Suddenly, he blurted out, “You take my breath away. I don’t want to think of your ever being with any man but me.”

  She stepped closer to him. “Why would something like that cross your mind? I’m with you, and I’m sure you know how to make certain that I stay with you.”

  He stared down at her, his gaze so fierce that she felt shudders dart through her body. “Denise, that comment was so loaded. I’m going to take you at your word.” The elevator sounded, and with his arm around her and his hand gripping her upper arm in a possessive gesture, they entered the elevator. He didn’t let go of her until they reached the lobby. He also didn’t say a word.

  “We’re invited to the hotel manager’s cocktail hour for first-time visitors,” he said when they entered a room where approximately thirty people stood chatting and drinking.

  “Mr. Southworth,” he said when he stopped a few feet inside the room. “This is Ms. Miller.”

  The goateed Englishman bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure to have you with us, Ms. Miller. Enjoy your stay. If I can be of any assistance to you, please let me know.”

  “Thank you,” she said, wondering whether Scott noticed that the man’s gaze was not on her face, but on her cleavage.

  She didn’t have to wait for the answer. “If she needs any assistance, I’ll see that she gets it,” he said in a voice tinged with tension. Scott tightened his grip around her waist as they entered the room, a gesture that was designed to send the manager a clear signal.

  She’d never been so relieved as when a smile claimed his face and he guided her through the room toward a couple he greeted warmly, one half of whom included a woman showing more cleavage than she did.

  “August Jackson and Susan Andrews-Jackson, this is Denise Miller. Denise, these people are among my best friends. August is a criminologist, and Susan is an attorney.” He regarded August with a smile. “What anniversary is this for you two?”

  “Man, life is one long honeymoon with this wonderful woman. She loves it here, so we come frequently, but this is our first time at this hotel. So far, it’s our favorite. When did you return to the States?”

  They talked for a while, as the waiters served hot hors d’oeuvres and wine and cocktails. Denise was enjoying the couple’s company, but Scott seemed distracted. Finally, he said to his friends, “I see someone else that I’d like to say hello to. I hope we’ll see you again later.”

  “I thought you said you wanted to say hello to some other people,” she said to him when she realized that they had left the reception and were in the lounge.

  “What will your friends say when they don’t see you talking with anyone else?”

  “August is a partner in a top Wall Street firm. He knows I used that as an excuse to be alone with you. Do you want to eat in the grill room, in the main dining room or in a place I know on Front Street?”

  “I’ll be happy wherever you take me.” Food wasn’t her priority that evening. And if he’d paid any attention to her dress, he would have known that.

  He tweaked her nose. “Then we’ll go out. If you brought a wrap or a sweater, we’d better get it, because the restaurants tend to be chilly.”

  They went back to her room to retrieve her wrap, but he stood at the door and didn’t enter. She got the black silk shawl that she’d brought, threw it across her arm and joined him. “We don’t need a car,” he said as they walked out into the balmy, moonlit night. “It’s only two short blocks away.”

  “You’ve been here before,” she said. “Alone?” she asked.

  “I didn’t have a woman with me, if that’s what you’re asking. I spent six weeks here one summer with one of my fraternity brothers, my college buddy and his parents. He lived in St. George. He’s married now and lives in London.”

  She liked the restaurant, a charming, rustic setting at the water’s edge. Their dinner began with turtle soup. “This isn’t mock, sir,” the waiter joked. “It’s the real thing. We caught the bugger on the south shore yesterday morning.” She didn’t want to hear any more about the poor turtle’s fate, and said as much.

  “Don’t worry, ma’am. We treat them good. We’re very humane.” His grin exposed a gold crown on one of his teeth.

  She enjoyed the soup and the remainder of the dinner, which featured a dessert of flaming baked Alaska with preserved cherries on the side. They strolled back to the hotel holding hands under the moonlight and surrounded by a sky blanketed with stars. Suddenly, she stopped walking.

  “What is it? Is anything wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

  “Oh, no. I need to take this all in, to etch this in my memory forever. I’ve been many places, but I’ve never seen such beauty. And it’s quiet and peaceful. It’s so wonderful.” She had never kissed a man in the street, but she wanted him to kiss her right then and there.

  She stepped closer to him. “Kiss me. I…I just need to be in your arms.”

  He brought her to him at once, wrapped her in his arms and pressed his lips to hers. But he stepped away almost as quickly as he had initiated the embrace. “I’d like a rain check for that kiss,” he said. “That was far from satisfactory.”

  He could have as many rain checks as he wanted, she thought. But for the time being, he needed only one. She didn’t respond, but squeezed his fingers to let him know that they were on the same page.

  When they returned to the hotel, he opened her room door, returned the key card to her and stepped back.

  “You still haven’t seen my suite,” she said.

  “I don’t want to look at your suite. I know it’s just like mine.”

  “Then come in and look at me,” she said.

  “If I go in there, you and I won’t be the same when I leave.”

  She opened the door wider. “I don’t want to be the same when you leave.”

  His gaze pierced her, as if trying to see inside her mind. Then, he walked past her and continued toward the balcony. “Let’s sit out here for a few minutes.”
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br />   She opened the minibar, got a bottle of wine, two glasses and a corkscrew and put them on the glass-top table in front of the lounge chair where he sat. He patted the empty seat beside him, inviting her to sit there.

  “Denise, for the two years I spent in Lithuania, I didn’t touch a woman.” At her gasp, he said, “Neither virtue nor impotence had anything to do with it. The women were young, beautiful and eager for United States citizenship and an easy life. But it didn’t once occur to me to do something so stupid as sacrificing my career and my future as a diplomat.

  “I’ve been on fire for you ever since I saw you walking toward me at Judson’s barbecue, and the fire has burned hotter and hotter ever since. For weeks now, it’s been far more than heat. I care deeply for you, but if all you want from me is an easing of the sexual tension that grips us every time we touch, we’ll limit this to a pleasant change of scenery, go back to our respective homes and remain casual friends.”

  “Scott—”

  “Hear me out. I need you, but I don’t want a taste. I’m thirty-five years old, and I aim to get my life in order. Are you willing to see if you and I can make it together? All I’m asking is whether you want to try.” He opened the wine bottle, and her eyebrows shot up at the sight of his trembling fingers.

  Longing to nurture him, to soothe his concerns, she leaned over and kissed the side of his mouth. “I care deeply for you, too,” she said. “I…I need to know what makes you happy, makes you laugh and what hurts you, saddens you. I want to know your hopes, dreams, joys, successes and disappointments—everything. I want to be the person you turn to when you hurt, when you want to celebrate and when you need a friend. I know I have hang-ups, but my mother said you will help me overcome them, and I believe her.”

  “I’ll try my best.”

  He poured the wine into their glasses, took a sip and eased his arm around her shoulder. Suddenly her mouth became dry, and she drank the wine as if it were water. He asked if she was nervous. “No, but I’d better tell you this because you’re not leaving here the way you came in.”

 

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